Untrustworthy Letters
by TheFriendlyStranger
Summary: A few months after the Origami Killer case has been closed, Norman Jayden has resigned from the FBI in search of something resembling normalcy. Clarissa O'Connor has just been let out of a mental institution, ready to try and settle back into a life that isn't run by men in white coats. (Norman/OC)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I've been meaning to write a Heavy Rain fanfiction for a while now. I'm basing this a few months after the events of the game, using the ending where Norman resigns from the FBI to try at a sort of normal life. Anyway, there is an OC present, so I hope that I did alright with her character. Any feedback would be much appreciated.

* * *

**Untrustworthy Letters**

**...**

**Chapter One**

* * *

Hand resting against her face, Clarissa watched as the rain drops fell against the window. It was relentless, like the sky just opened up to let rain fall forever. It certainly felt like forever, every silence was occupied with the sound of rain. The soothing sound of rain against a roof, or the sound of the water hitting the ground.

Now, she couldn't hear the rain. She could never hear it in the therapist's office, the rain used to be a comforting sound that reminded her of a better time. One where she still had her family and friends. Though, now, the rain wasn't all that comforting.

"You stare out the window quite a bit," a woman stated, who was sitting across from her in the small room. She was a little older than her, her eyes slightly wrinkled that gave her an almost laughing expression. Friendly, trustworthy. Clarissa turned her head to look at her finally, pulling her attention away from the window.

There was a number of things that she was relieved about in regards to her therapist. Dr. Davenport spoke in a calm and supportive voice, not the authoritative and almost robotic voice that Clarissa had grown used to while she was in..._that_ place. All the doctors and nurses in that place spoke like they hated their jobs, which Clarissa assumed that they did. Dr. Davenport, though, didn't seem like she minded dealing with nutcases, so it was a nice change.

"I just find it odd," Clarissa muttered, turning her attention back to the window once again, "it seems like the rain never stops. It rained when I got let out, it rained when I spent my first night in my old apartment, and it feels like it hasn't stopped since."

"Do you like the rain?" Dr. Davenport asked, Clarissa only shrugging her shoulders as she continued to look out of the window.

"I don't care," she muttered, silence falling between the doctor and patient.

It had been a few days since she was let out, and every day she was supposed to see her therapist. Clarissa hadn't had a good sleep in a long time, and didn't really let anybody else know she was finally out of the place she was kept in for over three years, aside from her cousin. He had kept her small apartment clean and tidy, even paid for it while she wasn't living in it. Still does.

He had said that she could start to pay him back once she finally got a job and had settled back into the flow of life. A life that was outside of the overly clean hallways and white rooms of the mental institution.

"How have you been fairing with settling in?" Dr. Davenport asked, Clarissa turning back to look at her with dull blue eyes. It seemed like the medication had sucked all the life out of her, the flare. Though, Clarissa wasn't sure if it was the medication anymore. Maybe she was just tired. She looked like she hadn't had a solid sleep for a few nights now, a few hours each night.

"I still can't sleep for long," Clarissa said, "it's too quiet, and I'm not used to sleeping alone. I used to have a roommate back in _that_ place-"

"The institution?" Dr. Davenport asked, Clarissa just nodding before continuing.

"Now, I sleep alone in my apartment. All I can hear is the rain and the odd voice outside in the hallway. Sometimes the heater kicks on, but it's never for too long. I manage to fall asleep with it on, but the moment it shuts off I wake up."

"Any night terrors?" Dr. Davenport asked, "you had said that you suffered them before and while you were in the institution."

"Not really," Clarissa said, rubbing her hand against her mouth in thought, "I guess that is a blessing in itself. I just wake up early and can't fall back asleep. Then, the worries and rampant thoughts come shortly after that. At that point, I just give up and start my morning."

"Have you had any contact with your family?"

"No," Clarissa muttered, "aside from my cousin, I haven't bothered. They didn't bother to visit me for over two years, I just want to avoid the pity visits because their mentally ill daughter, sister, or niece is finally out of the loony bin."

Dr. Davenport frowned while she wrote away on her usual pad of paper, "that's sad to hear, I'm sure they would love to hear from you."

"Well, I would rather avoid any awkwardness from them, but I'm sure that news of my release has been spread around. My cousin, Sam, has been trying to get me to visit them as well. I figure that if my family wants to visit, they can do it on their own terms."

"Your cousin, you haven't spoke much of him aside from the day he drove you to your apartment."

"What is there really to say?" Clarissa asked, "I know he means well, but I still don't trust him."

"Why is that?"

"His name starts with the letter 'S'," Clarissa muttered, looking away from her towards the window again, "everybody that has betrayed me or hurt me in the past had the letter 'S' in their name."

"So, everybody who has the letter 'S' in their name is untrustworthy?" Dr. Davenport asked, regarding her with a thoughtful gaze.

That was another thing that Clarissa liked about her, that she never looked at her oddly. Concern, amusement, and thoughtful looks were mostly what Dr. Davenport gave her, it made her feel less insane. She is better than she was before, _much_ better, but she was still pretty far from sane. She doubted that she would ever be fully sane, but half of her life had gone by with no attempt at living like a normal person.

Someone who could support themselves, live without constant check ups to make sure they haven't done anything stupid or life threatening. Someone Clarissa could be proud of, someone she could look in the mirror at without feeling regret.

"Yes..." Clarissa muttered, answering the doctor's question and bringing her mind back to the topic at hand.

"Did you want to talk about why that is?"

"_No_. That is something that I never talk about, it is just a fact," Clarissa snapped, not happy with being questioned about that.

People who had an 'S' in their name were bad, untrustworthy. She even hated the fact that she couldn't trust herself due to that fact, yet she knows she can trust herself. The letter N wasn't as bad, she could maybe trust someone with that letter in their name, but not completely. Other letters were alright, just those two were bad.

S and N.

The doctors in the mental institution had tried to figure out why she thought this way, but Clarissa just refused to answer. Why should she have to explain a fact? She honestly can't remember when she started avoid people with those letters in their names, but all she knew was that people with those letters in their names were untrustworthy.

Some days it just felt like everybody was out to get her, regardless of the names they had.

"Maybe one day you will be ready to talk about it," Dr. Davenport said, "you will have to trust someone eventually with that letter in their name. You could learn to trust someone by the way they act, and not the name they have."

"I doubt it..." Clarissa muttered. She glanced towards the clock, an hour had passed. It was time to leave, which left Clarissa feeling relieved. Usually, she left feeling good after a session if it was successful. Meaning that she left with something she could use, a drug or new coping mechanism. This time, they did a lot of talking about things. It just left her with more things to think about while lying in bed.

"Well, I guess we better end it here today," Dr. Davenport said, standing as she closed her file and placed it down on the desk. "I hope to see you tomorrow."

"I'll try my best to be here," Clarissa said softly, standing from the chair, "thanks."

* * *

Her wet shoes squeaked slightly as she strode across the floor towards the elevator, jamming her finger into the up arrow exactly three times. Any more or any less, Clarissa was convinced that the elevator would jam or stop. Her mind ran over all the bad things that could happen, and she almost found herself pressing the button three more times.

_No, _her mind snapped at her, _then you will have pressed it six times. If you do that, you will have to take the stairs..._

Clarissa blew out a breath, closing her eyes tightly for a few moments. She tried to remember that she had to reverse the thoughts. Nothing would happen if she pressed it one more time, and if it did, she would just have to accept it.

A light bing filled the rather quiet lobby, an elevator door opening. Carefully, she started to walk towards it. Clarissa had pressed the button three times, every thing will be fine for now. She pushed the button to her floor, moving back from the door and towards the back of the empty elevator. With a jerk, it started to climb up the floors.

Clarissa tapped her fingers against the metal bar she was holding onto, trying to ignore the pressure the elevator was leaving on her head. She was already slightly dizzy from lack of sleep, so she prayed that the motion wasn't going to make her pass out.

Finally, she reached the floor her apartment was located on. Quickly, she stepped outside of the elevator. Only a few steps away, and she would be safely back inside of her apartment. Sam wasn't visiting today, so maybe she could get to relax for a while.

She noticed one of the people who had an apartment on this floor standing in the hallway outside of his door, he seemed a bit out of it. She frowned, not too sure what to do. She didn't know him, didn't know his name. He didn't seem like he was doing too good, though. When he glanced over at her, his eyes were rimmed in red and he was pale, shaking slightly like he might just pass out then and there.

_What do I do? _Clarissa asked herself, panic starting to crop up. _Do I help him? Do I just keep walking? _

Could she trust him? She knew she couldn't, but she found herself approaching him carefully. Unsure as to what to do, she decided to ask if he needed help. His gaze was on her, but it was like he wasn't really looking at her. Through her, like he wasn't really all there...

_He's really out of it. _

"Sir?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, to not stutter and trip over her words, "are you alright? Do you need help?"

He didn't really answer at first, just pushing himself off the wall slightly and turned, falling back against the wall. He didn't collapse, thankfully. Then, he seemed to notice her standing there.

"What?" he asked, Clarissa's frown deepening. It was odd, she was quite concerned for him. She had seen many people stumbling around, drunk or on a drug, and didn't really pay them much mind. This time, though, he seemed like he needed help. There was that look in his eyes, the paleness of his skin and the shaking. She could kind of see some blood that had been wiped away above his nose...

"Do you need help?" she asked, slowing her words down so she spoke clearly. The man's eyes widened, his gaze getting that weird look in them again. He wasn't there anymore. She needed to sit him down somewhere, call an ambulance. Was he drunk? Overdosing on something?

She didn't really want to touch him, but it seemed like he was struggling to keep on his feet. With a sigh, she decided to just get him to sit down on the floor of the hallway.

"Here, just..." she started, placing her hands on his shoulders and lowered him down. He did so willingly after a few moments, sinking down so that he was sitting on the floor. Clarissa stepped back, searching for her phone.

"I'm going to call you an ambulance-"

"No," the man stated quickly, his hand reaching out slightly. Clarissa stepped back farther at the movement, not wanting to be grabbed.

"No...just..."

"Alright..." Clarissa said after a few moments, tucking her phone into her pocket. It was better she avoided a conflict. She would wait until he passed out before calling, if need be. "Can I get you anything, then? Water?"

"Bathroom," he said, trying to pull himself up again.

_He needs a bathroom? _She asked herself, knowing that he wasn't really capable of unlocking his own lock at the moment. Clarissa debated on letting him use hers, she never let anybody other than Sam into her apartment...

_He really needs help...Shit._

"Bathroom," she muttered, "alright...come on."

_What am I doing? _A voice in her head hissed as she slung his arm over her shoulder, letting him lean on her for support as she walked him towards her apartment door. _This man is a stranger, I don't know who he is. He is untrustworthy! He could harm me!_

He needed help, that's all Clarissa knew. She started to repeat that over and over in her head, creating a mantra to keep the paranoid voice at bay. It worked for a while as she fished around in her pockets for her apartment key.

She quickly unlocked the door, leading him inside and towards her bathroom. Once she turned on the bathroom light, she felt the man remove his arm from around her shoulder and stagger towards the sink. He turned the cold water on, splashing his face a few times. Clarissa stood awkwardly at the door, trying not to slap her right hand against her thigh like she usually did when she was really anxious.

_I have to get him out of here. Kick him out._

_He needs help..._

She shook her head slightly, watching as he turned the water off and stared down at the sink for a few moments. He then looked up, the look in his eyes much more focused now. Clarissa tried to keep herself from scowling at him, keeping up a sort of poker face of concern.

She _was_ concerned.

"Thanks," the man said after a few moments, Clarissa just nodding her head.

"Are you drunk?" she demanded, trying not to wince at her demanding tone. She continued with a sort of softer tone, "it's just a little past noon...are you sure you don't need an ambulance?"

"No, I'm fine," the man stated, still a little wobbly on his legs. His arms were shaking, Clarissa letting out a small sigh. She ran a hand through her hair, looking around.

"Maybe you should sit, before you fall..." she said quietly, watching as the man looked behind him. He seemed like he wanted to get out of there, probably as much as she wanted him out. Still, he lowered himself down onto the edge of the tub, placing his hands over his head and sat like that for a while.

Clarissa wanted to ask more questions, but she figured that she would let him get his strength back. He would leave and she would, hopefully, not have to deal with him again. She debated leaving the bathroom, but that concern she was feeling left her entering the small bathroom and pulling down the lid of the toilet seat, sitting down and watching him. Suspicion was starting to crop up a bit, geared towards why he was like this, that if she unwillingly entered herself into another bad situation.

_I need to take my pills again..._Clarissa reminded herself, hoping that the man would leave soon so he wouldn't have to see her true self, the person off the medication. Not that it really mattered, he seemed worse off than she was at the moment.

_I've never let anybody in my apartment..._she thought to herself, _not someone I know. This has to be some mile stone or something..._

_Still, _a more paranoid voice stated, _I bet he has a name that has one of the untrustworthy letters..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Untrustworthy Letters**

**...**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Damn it.

Whatever small optimism he had over finally getting over this thing was ripped away from him, leaving him sitting on the side of a bathtub in a complete stranger's bathroom with his hands on his head to keep them from shaking.

It had been a few days with little tremors and only a few hallucinations, Norman had started to believe that he would be able to allow the damage ARI left on his mind to just work its way out. So, the situation he found himself in was a complete surprise to him. He got the full package with this withdraw, the tremors, hallucinations, and slips from reality.

He had been vaguely aware of someone talking to him out in the hall, only catching sight of a woman standing in front of him when his mind would recover enough to pull him back down into reality. He chose to rely on this stranger because of her willingness to help, and the hope that he would be able to wash his face. He hadn't been able to unlock his apartment door because he had been shaking so badly, and he honestly was too far gone at that moment.

Once the cold water had hit his face, it gave him that clarity that it always did. He wasn't completely over the withdraw episode just yet, but he was able to get grounded again and was getting more and more grounded the longer he sat there.

The woman from apartment F15, he had never met her or seen her before.

The friendly, although nosey, woman that lived in the apartment beside his had told him about the man that would come in every now and then to clean the apartment. Norman had a brief encounter with the man she had been talking about, yet this woman was the one living there.

She seemed stiff, tense, as she sat on the toilet to wait with him. She was rather thin, dark circles under her eyes that lead him to believe that she must not have been sleeping or eating very well. She was rather pale as well, but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary for people living in the city.

That thought reminded him that he was now forced to add more time to his stay in the rainy town, moving from one rainy town to another. At least this one was new and didn't hold all the memories the other one had. The rain followed, though, which seemed to bring up the memories a lot more than he wished it did.

He let out a shaky sigh, running his hands down his face. He looked up towards the woman again, who was now looking at him with a rather hard gaze. Norman picked up on something a bit wild in that gaze as well, leading him to understand why a lot of the people on this floor seemed to avoid her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice was laced with a bit of concern.

"Better," Norman replied, pushing himself up to a stand. He was relieved at the steadiness of his legs and body now, only the odd shake in his hands left. "Ugh...thanks."

"Yeah," she stated, looking away from him as she stood and exited the bathroom, leaving him to follow her out. The apartment that greeted him was rather small, but there wasn't much to it. Some boxes were still sitting by the door, Norman deciding to just stop trying to figure her out. It was a habit that he had a hard time dropping.

The woman opened the door for him, the corner of her mouth lifting up from her frown to the ghost of the smile.

"Try and take it easy, alright?" she said as he walked past her out into the hall, Norman turning to look at her with a small nod.

"Thanks again," he said, "I didn't catch your name."

"...maybe it's better that you didn't," the woman said, swiftly closing the door soon after with a click.

_Well that was rude. Though, a little odd...she sounded scared._

* * *

_Pills..._

Clarissa walked over to her cabinet with a swift stride, her heart was hammering away inside her chest. She had managed to keep her composure around the man, her curiosity had managed to mask some of the fear and anxiety that she had built up throughout the time he sat in her bathroom.

_Lord, I hope he doesn't want to be friends after this..._Clarissa thought to herself, shaking her head as she pulled some of the bottles down and placed them on the counter. She placed both her hands down on the edges, bowing her head and exhaled heavily. She felt really tired, maybe she would be able to sleep finally.

After a few moments of collecting herself once again, she started opening the bottles and placed out the pills she needed to take. Clarissa knew it was rude to shut the door in his face, and guilt cropped up the moment she did it, but she really didn't want to know his name. There was always that constant fear, something that left her preferring to be alone where she knew she was safe.

Popping the pills she needed, leaving a few that she didn't like, she made her way towards her bed. Slowly, she lowered herself down onto the mattress, sitting on the edge as she waited for the pills to take effect.

She hated that she had to rely on them so she could function properly, though it was a bit too late for that now. She was forced to take them in the institute, and it was a requirement that she take them outside as well.

Slowly, she felt the effects of the drugs wash over her, leaving her numb and her brain completely clear. Clarissa lay down, letting sleep take hold. She only hoped that it would be a long rest this time.

* * *

"This is a very big event," Dr. Davenport stated, Clarissa sitting in her usual chair with her hands folded together to keep them from fidgeting. "The way you handled it, from what you have told me, was very good given the circumstances."

"I still wish that I had called an ambulance for him," she muttered, "I was worried for a while that he might overdose on my bathroom floor."

"Yes, that may have been a better choice, but at least you didn't leave him out in the hallway."

Clarissa nodded her head, she should have felt some sort of pride in stepping towards getting over her problems, but she didn't make a few friend. If anything, the whole incident just left her feeling sad and worried that something like that would happen again.

"Did you get his name?" Dr. Davenport asked, knowing that Clarissa avoided asking for names whenever possible.

"No," Clarissa stated, "because I intend to not let something like that happen again. I am not seeking for some sort of relationship or friendship with him at all. He obviously has his own problems to deal with, as I have my own. I don't need to worry about his on top of my own."

"Though, Clarissa," Dr. Davenport said, her words coming out slowly, as if she was unsure she wanted to say anything, "from what you have told me, it seems you already do."

"Well...yeah, I worried that he would die on my bathroom floor, I wanted to know what was going on with him, and that he didn't collapse on his apartment floor after he left mine. Other than that, I am not seeking to know anything else."

"Alright," Dr. Davenport stated, nodding her head as she wrote something down, "I just hope that you see this as a step in the right direction. Would you have helped this man two years ago?"

"...No," Clarissa said, looking down at her hands, "I doubt the dog would have let me."

The dog...

Clarissa frowned, knowing that the dog was something she never liked to talk about. She hadn't seen him for almost a year now, and she was worried that if she let her brain think about him he would appear. The faint smell of rain hit her nose, making her shut her eyes firmly.

_No..._

"How has that been lately?" Dr. Davenport stated after Clarissa opened her eyes once again, "any hallucinations?"

_Aside from the start of one right now? _"No."

"That's good to hear," the doctor said, placing her pen down to look at her, "the medications have been doing their job, then?"

"Yes."

"Is something bothering you?"

Clarissa wanted to curse, tell her to fuck off. She bit the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. Dr. Davenport studied her carefully, Clarissa turning her head away from her towards the window for the first time that session.

It wasn't raining as hard as it was before, maybe the rain would finally let up and Clarissa would be able to see how sunlight effects her apartment for once. Still, it was dark and gloomy outside that left her wishing for the institution where it always seemed to be sunny and warm. At the time she didn't think much of it, but now she longed for it.

She found herself longing for the scheduled routines and the crowded entertainment room. The clean halls and the white rooms, everything bright and happy. Had she made the mistake saying she was ready for the outside world once again? It honestly felt like she was taking steps backwards instead of forwards.

Of course, she really should have been telling her therapist these things, but she just kept her gaze to the window and watched the rain.

"I hope you know that whatever is said doesn't leave this office, Clarissa," Dr. Davenport said finally, her tone of voice soft and supportive. Clarissa sighed, looking over at her.

"I have nothing more to say," she stated, "I know that it hasn't been an hour, but I am really worn down and had a really shitty sleep last night."

"Alright, I won't force you to stay here if you don't wish to be," Dr. Davenport said, nodding her head. Clarissa nodded, in return muttering a small thanks as the doctor turned to start to type in her computer to book their next appointment.

Clarissa then headed out into the rain, ready to make her way back to her apartment. She thought she heard something following her, the jingle of a collar. She shook her head, tucking her hands into her pockets.

_If I acknowledge him, they might as well return me to the_ _mental institution. _

She paused in her walking, realization crossing her mind.

_I'm not going to get anywhere if I keep holding onto these old habits. I have to try and move forwards and not allow myself to fall backwards. _

She knew just where to start.

* * *

Her hands were shaking, a sweat building up on the palms of her hands. Her heart was racing, hammering away in her chest. The walls of the elevator felt smaller than before, Clarissa felt like she wanted to sit down on the floor and grab her head.

Shut down completely.

_That is not what I am here for. I have to do this. _

_What happened to being detached from it all? Does he even want to know you? It was extremely awkward yesterday, probably as awkward for him as it was for you. _

The paranoid voice chipped away at her resolve, making her grip the metal bar of the elevator tighter.

_I'm just giving him a name to the apartment number, it's not like I am asking him to marry me. _

_What if he has a name that has one of the untrustworthy letters? _

She closed her eyes tightly, sucking in some air through her nose as the elevator came to a stop.

_You need to shut up, dog. _

Clarissa walked across the carpeted floor of the hallway, approaching apartment F12. Her hands clenched and unclenched with anxiety. She stopped at the front door, bowing her head as she took a few calming breaths.

She hoped he wasn't home, that she could at least say she tried and leave it at that. Even so, she still had yet to knock on the front door.

_Just give him a name and apologize for the rude behaviour the day before._ Clarissa nodded her head, lifting her gaze to the door and raised her fist.

Two solid knocks, loud and clear.

She stepped back once it was done, she was now past the point of no return. She doubted that she could be quick enough to leave after this.

_Relax, calm breathing..._

Her eyes lifted up to the door when she heard it open, her hands clenching as the man from the day before opened the door. He looked...alright. Better than she was expecting, releasing a small sense of relief inside her. She wanted to question what that is, that she was worried about him enough that she would feel relieved that he was alright.

_You can think about it later. _

Clarissa cleared her throat, rubbing her hands on her jeans slightly. "I...wanted to apologize for my standoffish behaviour yesterday, and shutting my door in your face. That was...extremely rude of me."

"Look, it's fine," he stated, "after what you saw yesterday, I wouldn't want to keep myself around, either."

Clarissa extended her hand, trying to keep it from shaking. "Clarissa O'Connor."

She felt her heart beating in her chest, the blood rushing through her face, neck, and arms. She had never been more aware of her body at that moment, waiting for his hand. It was just a simple gesture, shaking hands, and she felt like he was holding a gun to her head.

The man gripped her hand, his skin was a little cold, his handshake firm. "Norman Jayden."

_Norman...shit. Shit! _

She tried to smile at him, using quite the mental power to try and silent her thoughts, but the fear was starting to grip tightly. She knew it would soon grow to suspicion and contempt.

"...N-Nice to meet you," she stated, removing her hand from his, "it's n-nice to put a name to the apartment number. I'll leave now, I-I'm sorry if I bothered you."

"It's fine," Norman said, then his eyes narrowed slightly as if he was studying her.

_What do you want!? _Her brain yelled at him, Clarissa itching with every fibre of her being to get away from there. Into her apartment where she knew she was safe.

_He's been in there..._

"Are you alright? You look faint."

"Yes, I'm fine," Clarissa said quickly, forcing a smile up at him, "I'm going to go now, it was nice meeting you Norman."

Even just saying his name was hard for her.

She left after that, walking swiftly towards her apartment. She heard Norman's apartment door shut behind her, Clarissa letting out a heavy sigh and placed her head against her door.

_I warned you. _


End file.
